


"Are you alright?"

by military_bluebells



Series: First Meetings [4]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24007747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/military_bluebells/pseuds/military_bluebells
Summary: Ray laughed and moved to jump off the table when his foot slipped. He felt a sickening lurch in his stomach as he fell backwards.I hope I don’t die on Walt’s birthday.
Relationships: Nate Fick & Ray Person
Series: First Meetings [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699477
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	"Are you alright?"

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Star Wars Day!

Walt’s birthday was going without a hitch, if Ray didn’t say so himself. The birthday boy was drunk enough that his cheeks were permanently flushed, and he was waxing his love for Fliss and Gabe and Ray and all the other people that went and sat with him. 

“Really, Ray you’re a really -hic- great friend, you know that right?” Ray wanted to coo at Walt, his baby blues widened in earnest, but that would be embarrassing for the both of them. 

“Yeah, I know, you’ve been telling me for the past five minutes.” 

“It’s true! I know I say you talk a lot and don’t think but I really like having you as a friend.” 

Ray grinned at Walt, “Aww, you saying we’re best friends Hasser?” 

Walt nodded enthusiastically, a little too quickly judging by the dizzy look that followed, “You are! You’re going to be my best man and Uncle Ray to all my kids.” 

Ray rose an eyebrow at Gabe as he came to join them at the booth, “I think I should get that in writing, but it feels a little shady, even for me.” 

Gabe laughed, “It’s the only time he’s ever gonna say it bro, you need evidence and shit.” 

Walt pouted, “That’s not true, I’ve always wanted Ray as my -hic- my best man.” 

Ray snorted, turning to Gabe, “I think I’ll leave it; it would be worth nothing under duress like this, I mean he’s almost completely wasted, it’s taking advantage and that shit’s illegal.” Gabe laughed, even as Walt protested again. Ray should get Walt drunk more often; it was doing wonders for his self-esteem. “Come on birthday boy, you’re not shit-faced yet.” Ray said, pushing a small shot towards Walt. 

Gabe rose an eyebrow as Walt downed it like a good boy, “I thought you said he was wasted?” 

Ray shook his head, sighing, “Gabriel, drunkenness goes in tiers, first sobriety, then tipsy, then plastered, then wasted - white-girl wasted is the top section of wasted - then shit-faced, then comatose.” 

Gabe nodded like he understood, but his eyes had taken a slightly confused, slightly absent look so Ray changed the subject. “When do you think we should sing happy birthday, before or after he’s too drunk to function.” 

“Before: it’s no fun if the white boy doesn’t remember his humiliation.” Poke said, leaning on the back of the extra chair, which Chaffin had dragged over earlier. 

“I think singing’s really nice,” Walt piped, nodding his head along. 

Poke stared at Walt and then at Ray, “Then again, he might not remember anyway.” 

Ray clapped his hands, startling Walt a little, before throwing himself out of the booth, dragging Walt up with him. He propped him against a table, leaving Gabe and Poke to hold him upright. He used Brad’s thigh - where he was talking to Kocher over one of his piss-water pints at a table - to get on the opposite one. Brad gave him an exasperated look. 

“Ladies and gents, I believe it’s time to honour Walter’s 22nd birthday in true fashion. A one, two, three, four!” 

Ray waved his hands and sang, as loudly and out of tune as he could, followed a second later by the rest of their friends, “Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday you corn-fed fuck uppppp! Happy Birthday to youuuuuuuuu!” They wailed the last ‘you’ as was tradition and Ray thought Walt looked a little misty eyed where he was beaming. There was the customary hoots and howls, featuring two very convincing wolf howls from Q-tip and Christeson. 

Ray laughed and moved to jump off the table when his foot slipped. He felt a sickening lurch in his stomach as he fell backwards. _I hope I don’t die on Walt’s birthday_. The fall felt like it lasted forever but it probably didn’t. He expected to smack his head on the floor but before he could even pass the table he landed. 

In someone’s arms. 

Ray didn’t recognise the guy, he wasn’t one of his friends or Walt’s, so Ray stared at him, in a little awe: he wasn’t the lightest -no matter what Brad said- and the guy didn’t seem built. 

“Are you alright?” the guy asked. He had really green eyes, the clearest Ray’d ever seen. He was still in the guy’s arms and he could feel Brad smirking at him, but really it wasn’t on him, it was on the guy, the _really_ cute guy. 

“Ah, yeah homes. Thanks for not letting me brain myself, it would have majorly sucked.” 

The guy’s lips – soft looking and slightly purple, shit they were pretty – quirked up, “I would have thought it would.” 

The guy’s arms were like bars, one under his knees and the other cradling his lower back. Ray weighed up his options; he could politely ask the guy to put him down but polite was never his jam. 

He threw his arm over the guy’s shoulder, curling it behind his neck and smirked, “So, are you going to carry me somewhere or what?” 

The guy’s eyes widened for a second before their position dawned on him and he glanced down, ears pinking and tongue just pushing against his lips, “Ah, of course, where would you like to go?” he said dryly, betrayed by the slight flush that made his eyes even clearer. 

Ray shrugged, “Bar? I was in the process of helping my friend Walt,” Ray gestured to where Walt was waving his arms around with more abandon than usual, “get blind drunk - possibly comatose - for his birthday.” 

The guy nodded seriously, shifting Ray in his arms with ease – well, that was hotter than expected – and said, “I heard your rendition of Happy Birthday, it was… enthusiastic.” 

Ray grinned as the guy started to carry him towards the bar. They passed Brad, who only rose an eyebrow before turning back to Eric – see if Ray rescued him from a female suitor again – and Ray turned to the guy, “Diplomatic answer homes, you’re a liberal aren’t you? No worries I can overlook that one character flaw.” 

The guy just chuckled and shook his head. Definitely a liberal. 

He set Ray down gently by a clear space at the bar and Ray stood up straight. The guy was taller than he’d expected, though not as freakishly tall as Brad but at least six foot. 

“Ray.” Ray said, offering out a fist. The guy smiled down at Ray’s fist before bumping it with his own with amusement. 

“Nate.” “Well Nate what're you drinking? Don’t say Heineken, that shit’s for when you’re a broke college student.” 

“Maybe I am a broke college student, or I like Heineken.” Nate said with a slight grin. 

Ray narrowed his eyes, “Then I’ll buy you a drink, and also, you need educating if you think Heineken is okay to drink in public.” 

Nate’s grin grew, “Are you aware that you’re offering to buy me a drink?” 

“Sure.” 

“Maybe I don’t swing that way.” 

Ray snorted, “First of all, swing that way, you’re up with the lingo, and second you’re wearing beige chinos and plaid.” 

“I doubt clothing is an accurate measure of sexuality.” 

Ray considered his answer, “True, it isn’t a fool-proof method however in my experience it is at least 60%- 70% accurate.” 

Nate laughed, “I would love to prove your theory wrong, but I am gay.” 

“Bi. So, drink?” Ray said, leaning on the bar. Nate’s eyes flicked to Ray’s biceps, easy to see in his tank top. Ray smirked. 

Nate wet his lips, “Rum and Coke.” 

“Two Rum and Coke’s please, and a pink gin.” Nate rose an eyebrow. “It’s for Walt, strawberry flavour.” 

“Yummy.” Nate said with a smile. A pretty fucking smile.


End file.
